


Cowboy Tendencies

by skoosiepants



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-14
Updated: 2008-09-14
Packaged: 2017-10-12 20:17:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/128638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skoosiepants/pseuds/skoosiepants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan's horse's name is Desiree. Brendon secretly thinks it's awesome that their horses both have 'D' names. They could start a club. Or a posse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cowboy Tendencies

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote maggiebloome faily cowboy!Brendon failing at rescuing Ryan from bandits. Or something.

“You and me,” Brendon looks Doreen right in the eye, “need to get a few things straight.”

Doreen stamps her hoof impatiently and waggles her head.

“No,” Brendon says. “No, you’re gonna _listen_.” Brendon is going to get up on Doreen and not fall off and, “You’re totally not going to bite me anymore.”

Doreen snorts.

Brendon doesn’t like her tone. He narrows his eyes at her.

She bares her teeth, ears flat against her skull.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Brendon says. He’s totally not. Brendon’s awesome with horses. Kind of. Mostly when they’re littler.

It takes him fifteen minutes to get up on Doreen’s back, dodging her chomping yellowed teeth, but she quiets down once he’s in the saddle. She always does.

*

Brendon hums Clementine for Doreen, because it’s one of her favorites. Her ears twitch and flicker back, so he knows she’s paying attention. He jangles the reins a little, lets them slide looser, because they’re just ambling here. Just strolling along. Brendon is totally not scared of the encroaching darkness, no sir.

*

“Home, home on the range,” Brendon sings, “Where the deer and the antelope—oh, hey. Look at that, Doreen.”

Doreen whinnies, and Brendon cocks his head.

“Huh,” he says. Then louder, “Hey, hey, you guys!” and four short dudes in matching black hats glance up at him – Brendon’s totally a rolling hillside away – and one of the little dudes waves.

“Hey,” he yells over to Brendon.

“Hey,” Brendon says. “So maybe you could let that girl go?”

“What?” He cups a hand over his ear.

“Let her go,” Brendon says louder.

He shakes his head. “Yeah, no.”

“Let her go or I’ll shoot.”

“You totally don’t have a gun, dude. Your horse is trying to eat your boot.”

Brendon doesn’t know what one has to do with the other. Although he doesn’t actually have a gun, so there is that. He’s got a knife, though, and he totally knows how to use it. On fish.

Brendon opens his mouth to yell something back at them, but it’s really stupid, all this shouting. He just says, “Hang on, I’m coming down,” and nudges Doreen into a trot.

Up close, Brendon sees the guy that’s been yelling to him has a big smile and bigger teeth.

Brendon says, “Are you bandits?” and the guy nods, even though this short red-headed dude slaps a palm over his face and this guy with huge curly hair just sort of blinks at him blankly, and the fourth guy has mysteriously disappeared. Brendon should maybe be worried about his whereabouts, but there’s a pretty lady to be saved. Or, like, a pretty boy. It could go either way. It’s the ginormous swath of scarves that throws him.

“Hey there, miss,” Brendon says, tipping his hat. He makes sure to put some extra swagger into his drawl.

“I’m a boy.”

“Good to know, ma’am,” Brendon says.

“That’s not actually any better, what the fuck.” The pretty boy fists his hands on his hips and glares at him.

“Andy, hey, oh cool, onion grass soup again,” the big-toothed guy says as the mysteriously disappearing guy shows up with a pot and a handful of greens. He gives Brendon another grin. “Wanna stay for dinner?”

*

Onion grass soup is like flavored water. Brendon could go for some fish, but there isn’t a river nearby.

“You guys should head east. Good fishing,” Brendon says.

“Thanks,” Pete says, “maybe we will.”

*

Brendon maybe travels with Pete and Patrick and Andy and Joe a little while. He’s just biding his time.

Ryan glares at everyone and crosses his arms over his chest.

When they bed down for the night, Brendon leans in close and says, “Don’t worry, ma’am, I’ve totally got a plan.”

Ryan glares some more and says, “I hate you.”

*

It turns out Pete’s the one who kidnapped Ryan, and Patrick spends sixty percent of his time trying to convince Pete to let him go, and the other forty percent humming and writing little notes in a little notebook. Brendon is oh so curious, but he doesn’t ask.

Andy and Joe don’t seem to care. Andy just wants to make sure they eat enough onion grass and leeks and berries and stuff.

Joe just—well.

*

Brendon can’t stop giggling. “No, seriously, seriously, Pete really,” he flaps his hands around and wow, wow, that feels so cool, with all the fresh air breezing between his fingers, “Pete, um. Wait. Wait, what was that?”

Joe cocks a finger at him. “Exactly.”

*

Brendon wakes up to a boot in his ribs. “Ow, what the hell.”

“You are the worst cowboy ever,” Ryan says.

“I’m not a cowboy. I’m a runaway Mormon,” Brendon says, “with cowboy tendencies. I’m trying to make it to the sea.”

“Which sea?” Ryan asks.

Brendon shrugs. “The one with trout?” Brendon likes trout. Although he’s only had freshwater trout before. He figures they must be pretty close.

Ryan pinches the bridge of his nose. Finally, he says, “They’re all asleep,” hooking a thumb over his shoulder.

Brendon blinks. “Yeah?”

Ryan stares at him. Stares at him some more. “Are you kidding me?” he says, and then, “Look, do you want to get out of here or not?”

“Or not?”

“What the fuck, dude,” Ryan says.

“No, I mean, maybe it’s better to travel in, like, a pack—”

“They’re bandits.”

Brendon kind of doubts that. “I’m not so sure,” Brendon says. Joe and Patrick seem particularly un-bandit-like.

“Well, I’m leaving,” Ryan says. He stands up tall and arches an eyebrow and waits.

Brendon sighs and starts pushing his way out of his bedroll. He can’t let Ryan go all by his lonesome. That’d be ungentlemanly.

*

Ryan’s horse’s name is Desiree. Brendon secretly thinks it’s awesome that their horses both have ‘D’ names. They could start a club. Or a posse.

*

Brendon sings Annie Laurie, because Desiree likes the high parts. She stands still and flicks her tail and lowers her head down to nip at the dewy grass. He sings it in the morning, when the sun is fuzzy on the horizon, and all the dark’s behind them, fading.


End file.
